


Strong Enough

by francoeurs



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Post-season 7, Romance, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/francoeurs/pseuds/francoeurs
Summary: Brienne cried out in surprise when Jaime took advantage of her distracted state and flipped her onto her back, knocking the breath out of her.





	Strong Enough

**Author's Note:**

> G o d. This was originally a scene in a crappy oneshot that I tried to fix for almost two freakin’ months, but the fic REFUSED to cooperate, so I finally decided to scrap it and post the only part that was pretty much complete and wasn’t 100% garbage. I tweaked it a little and then I stopped looking at it because I just couldn't do it anymore.
> 
> Now that I’ve taken a fairly important scene out of the stupid fic and basically ruined it, I can stop obsessing over it and start focusing on (hopefully) better ones. _I’m freeeeeeeee_.
> 
> Anyway, uh... this is the meager result of weeks and weeks of rewriting, headaches, and hair pulling. Hope you enjoy? :’)

The situation Brienne currently found herself in was embarrassing and undignified, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Jaime had insisted they train without armour or weapons that evening. “ _We need to be prepared for everything,”_ he’d said, circling her. “ _How many times have you_ _trained without weapons in the last few years? What if we end up in a situation where we only have our fists and wits to defend ourselves with?”_

There had been a sly glint in his eye that Brienne had not trusted one bit, but she’d agreed against her better judgment. Even if she ignored the funny feeling in her gut, she was far too tired to train anymore. She’d had a terribly long day.

She should have told him so, but she cherished these moments alone with him too much to say anything. Her secret, shameful longing and desires had kept her silent.

It had started well enough, but then she had hit him much harder than she’d intended, and Jaime had stumbled backwards and slammed his head into the wall. He’d recuperated quickly, though, and had tackled Brienne to the floor before she could even think about asking him if he was all right.

Things had gone downhill after that.

At least they were in an empty room in one of the quieter parts of the castle. There was no one around to see them ineffectually wrestling each other on the floor like clumsy children while wearing nothing but breeches, boots, and soft linen tunics.

 _Almost naked_. Her cheeks warmed as she remembered the one time they truly had been naked together.

Brienne cried out in surprise when Jaime took advantage of her distracted state and flipped her onto her back, knocking the breath out of her.

He straddled one of her thighs, squeezing it between both of his, and then used his weight to keep her pinned to the floor. Before she could react, he grasped both her wrists in one hand and raised them above her head.

He propped himself up on his elbow to look at her face.

Brienne grunted and tried to throw him off, but she’d been training people all day; she was bone-tired and suddenly felt as weak as a kitten. Skipping dinner had been a mistake. She’d pushed herself too hard, too long, and she had no strength left. If the army of the dead descended on Winterfell tonight, she would be absolutely useless.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

Jaime was breathing heavily, but he was smiling that bright smile that made the corner of his eyes crinkle and Brienne’s heart race.

She stopped struggling, her chest heaving with exertion, indignation, and arous—

She glowered at Jaime in an effort to disguise her mortification.

He was too elated to notice or care.

“I told you I was strong enough,” he crowed.

It took a long moment for Brienne to recall what he was referring to. She felt her jaw go slack when the realisation finally hit her.

“You... you...” she sputtered. She bucked her hips again, but it was useless.

Jaime’s smile dimmed a shade. Brienne watched his throat move as he swallowed.

He shifted his hips a little and raised his eyebrows. “Do you yield?”

She dug her nails into her palms. “Never.”

Jaime let his gaze slide slowly over her helpless body—just to annoy her more, no doubt.

Brienne’s eyes narrowed to slits, even as heat gathered low in her belly. She silently cursed her traitorous body and instinctively went to press her legs together to contain the shame she felt pooling between them, but her legs closed around Jaime’s firm thigh instead.

Her breath hitched.

Jaime was oblivious. His eyes crinkled again and sparkled with playfulness. “I don’t think you have much of a choice, my lady,” he practically purred with delight. “I'm quite sure I’ve already won this fight.”

Brienne licked her suddenly dry lips and croaked, “don’t look so smug. I—I’ve been training since dawn. I’m not at my full strength."

Jaime groaned dramatically and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. His body shook with quiet laughter.

“ _Please_ , Brienne. Let me have this,” he pleaded through a chuckle.

His low laughter vibrated through her chest. She released a long breath and stared at the ceiling without really seeing it, Jaime’s innocent words reverberating in her head like a mocking echo.

She tried not to squirm when his hair and breath tickled her neck. She tried to ignore the feel of his body covering hers; the weight of it, how solid and _good_ it felt. She tried to ignore the smell of fresh sweat and the herbs from the soap he’d clearly used earlier that day or the night before.

Jaime shook his head, still chortling. His beard brushed against the sensitive skin of Brienne’s neck when he moved, and a faint moan slipped from her throat before she could stop it.

Jaime tensed and fell silent.

Brienne froze like a startled deer.

.

.

.

Seconds ticked by like hours. Slowly, Jaime lifted his head and looked down at her, his eyes darkened with an unreadable emotion.

There was no trace of laughter left on his face.

Hot tears pricked Brienne’s eyes as humiliation burned her from the inside. She bit her lip in an attempt to contain her emotions. Jaime was probably disgusted with her. Or worse, pitying her and her lonely, lustful heart.

Her throat tightened. She’d ruined everything; ruined one of the few good things she had. He would push her away, distance himself from her. He—

He licked his lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered there.

Brienne released her lip from between her teeth, torn between confusion and foolish, dangerous hope. Her breathing quickened when she thought of what the look in his eyes could mean.

But how could she be sure? She’d never been looked at this way before. She’d received many looks of curious appraisal, and more recently, she’d had naked, unrequited lust thrown at her, but this was... something else. Something more. Something that didn’t make her feel freakish or dirty.

Jaime’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, then moved to their hands above her head. He released her wrist at once, but Brienne grabbed onto his own wrist without really thinking and kept him there.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. The air grew heavy between them. They looked at each other for what felt like an agonizingly long time, their breathing loud in Brienne’s ears.

And then his lips were on hers.

Her whole body went stiff with shock for _one, two, three heartbeats_ , and then melted like candle wax before her racing mind could even begin to catch up with it.

Jaime let out a hum of approval and pressed more of his weight on her. Brienne arched up without really meaning to.  

Their kisses were light; barely even kisses at all. He moved his lips against hers softly, hesitantly, as if afraid he would spook or break her.

Brienne huffed out a breath. More impulsive than bold, she nipped at his lower lip.

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when he went completely still. Had that been a strange thing to do? Stupid, _stupid—_

Jaime groaned against her mouth and parted his lips, and Brienne shivered with relief.

He ripped his wrist out of her grasp and gripped the back of her neck, pulling her closer. He licked at her lips, teasing her into parting them on her own. After a moment’s hesitation, she obliged, and he moaned gratefully and slid his tongue against hers.

He eventually pulled back for breath. His lips were red and swollen from their kisses, Brienne noted dazedly.

Jaime rested his forehead against hers. “Tell me to stop.”

She tangled one hand in his hair; the other curled around the side of his neck. She could feel his pulse quicken under her palm.

“Why?” she asked, both wary and bewildered.

“I shouldn’t have...” The hesitant words died on his lips when Brienne frowned in disappointment. Jaime shook his head and moved his hand from the nape of her neck to her shoulder. “You deserve better than to be kissed on a dirty floor by someone like me.”

She lifted her chin and gathered every ounce of courage she possessed. “I would have already stopped you, if I didn’t want this.” She paused for a moment, then took his face in her hands and reminded him: “I do not _yield_.”

His remorseful expression turned fond. He fiddled with the collar of her tunic and gave a slight nod, smiling.

This time, when their lips met, he did not hold anything back.


End file.
